


Tightrope

by aliaholic



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Dick and Wally are gangsters that run a puppy selling business, M/M, this is so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaholic/pseuds/aliaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing Dick knew for sure, was that when the apartment was empty of Wally’s laugh and his silly jokes and his bright green eyes– that’s when the wall he had put up came tumbling down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tightrope

**Author's Note:**

> Oho, look at me posting two fics in a day. Another tumblr prompt thing (?) questionable stuff going around there. (3alo.tumblr.com because I am shameless). More or less inspired by the Godfather, so please don't be afraid to correct any of my mistakes, give suggestions, or stroke my ego (do that last one yeah). I'm very open to criticism because I suck. Treat the comments like a safe haven. Anyway, enjoyyyyyyyyy!

“Grayson, get over ‘ere! Sit down, will ya,” grinned the old man.

“Hey, Al,” he said, taking a seat at the empty bar, eyeing the heavy rings adorning the man’s fingers.

“How’s the old man doin’?”

“Oh, Bruce? He’s fine. You know what he’s like,” said Grayson, a corner of his mouth curling upwards.

“Dick. Listen, you know that you’re like a son to me. Like my own. This ‘ere, this empire I built, I’d trust you with it, no doubt about it. And you know why I trust you so much? ‘Cause you’re loyal. And you’re clean. You sell the stuff, but I never seen you touch it.”

“Yeah. It’s a living…” he trailed off.

After a slight tilt of Al’s head, the bartender set a glass down in front of Dick. He carefully wrapped his fingers around the smooth surface.

“Thing is, you can’t trust everybody. Not how I trust you.”

He paused and took a swig of his drink.

“We got dead weight around here.”

“What’re you trying to say, Al?”

“It’s West.”

“Wally?”

“His old man Rudy, he was big stuff. Best of the best, until he got shot. His kid, well, I ain’t so sure about him. He’s sloppy, and the guys think he’s a rat. His heart ain’t in it. I need you to take care of him.”

Dick’s blood ran cold, “Me?”

“Look, I know it ain’t your style. Murder and the bloody stuff. But I need you to do this for me. You gotta work your way up the ladder, kid. This is how you do it.”

Dick remained silent as his superior ushered the bartender over to replenish his beverage. He finished his drink and set the glass down with a clunk, turning to Dick and observing his expression.

“Atta-boy,” he said, patting Dick on the back as he got up to leave, his right hand man following close behind him.

Dick could barely hear the bartender’s yells as he stormed out of the bar, pieces of broken glass and scotch mixed in with the blood on his hand.

—

“Dick! I’m home!” announced Wally.

He walked over to the kitchenette, where, unbeknownst to the redhead, Dick had been scrubbing at the same plate for twenty minutes or so. His fingers were wrinkled and soapy bubbles were scattered across the back of his palms.

Wally wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist, slowly setting his chin into the hollow of Dick’s shoulder. He immediately felt the muscles underneath him tensing. Dick rinsed the plate off and set it aside, taking in a sharp breath as Wally planted a kiss on his neck.

“What’s the matter?”

“I,” started Dick, not turning to face the other man, “I’m leaving you.”

After a good five seconds of complete silence (merciless now that the tap was off), Wally spun him around. He stared at him for another ten.

“I’m leaving you,” repeated Dick.

Wally let out a small nervous laugh, “What?”

“This isn’t working. Us,” Dick said slowly.

“What are you…? What are you talking about? Just yesterday, you told me you-”

Dick could almost see the lump forming in Wally’s throat.

“Oh, no. Oh, God no, did they- Did they find out?”

“No, no!”

“God, Dick. You can’t-”

Dick had Wally’s wrists in both of his hands now, their limbs crushed between their chests.

“Yesterday I saw Tony and Dave in the alley, like usual, beating the living hell out of somebody. But this time, I stopped when I heard them. They were calling him a, a fag, and I couldn’t- I thought it was you,” he whispered.

“Oh, Wally.”

Dick thought of every possible curse word he knew, unwilling to acknowledge the broken look on Wally’s face. He pulled his arms away and moved to the couch.

“We can make it work,” said Wally.

Dick felt his own throat starting to constrict, “No, we can’t. You have to go. You need to leave.”

Wally’s cold laugh felt like he had spat in Dick’s face, “Go where?”

“Anywhere. Just not here. Not with me,” was the reply.

“What did he say?”

“Who?”

“You know who. Al,” he said.

“Nothing,” was the quick response.

“Don’t  _lie_ to me, Dick. If you’re going to kick me to the curb like a dog, at least have the decency to tell me the truth.”

He sank down to his knees in front of the couch where the other was sitting, placing his hands on Dick’s thighs.

“Talk to me.”

The brunette ran his hand through his hair, swallowing in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

“There’s nothing to say, Wally. Just get out of here,” he sighed.

Dick wasn’t sure exactly when his resolve had crumbled. He wasn’t sure whether it was when Wally got up from the floor with a grimace, or whether it was when he grabbed his hat and slammed the door, or whether it was that one last pleading look from his lover to just _talk to him._ The only thing he knew for sure, was that when the apartment was empty of Wally’s laugh and his silly jokes and his bright green eyes– that’s when the wall he had put up came tumbling down.

—

Every inch of Dick screamed out in objection to his current position.

_Why aren’t you out looking for him?_

It was well past midnight, and there was still no sign of Wally.

_It’s better this way – he’s gone. Out of the picture. It’s what you wanted._

He didn’t want this to happen. Not like this. Dick suddenly jumped to his feet, grabbing his coat and thinking of every possible location the redhead could visit. He stopped in his track when he saw the doorknob shift slightly. Wally stepped in with a dreamy expression, face covered in sweat.

“Hey.”

Dick was at his side immediately, wrapping his arm around Wally’s waist as he stumbled. Panic clawed its way into his chest.

Wally’s midsection was wet.

Dick peeled off his black coat and nearly lost it when he saw the big red splotch on Wally’s shirt.

“What happened?” he croaked.

Wally’s breaths were labored, limbs heavy and sluggish as he fell onto the floor.

“We have to get you to a hospital!”

“No,” he whispered.

“What?!”

“I bled a lot, in that alley. Hospital’s too far. Won’t make it,” he mumbled.

The red curls he was so familiar with felt damp and coarse between Dick’s fingertips. He never liked it when Wally was right, but he would give his life for him to be wrong right now. With his back to the door, Dick held Wally’s head in his lap on the floor, watching the tremors in his chest.

“What happened?” he asked again.

“Stabbed me. Word got out. Dave couldn’t wait for you to get the job done,” his chuckle became a weak cough.

“Still here though. Dave stabs like a girl and doesn’t even… know what a pulse is,” he closed his eyes, “Nothing gets past me.”

Head spinning and cheeks coated with a copious amount of wetness, Dick placed his palm against Wally’s cheek.

“Eyes open, Wally,” he pleaded.

“C’mere,” he whispered.

He suddenly felt tired,  _so tired_ , as he bent down and kissed the other boy’s lips, voice breaking as he mumbled, “Wally, please. Please.”

He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for.

“I love you. So much. Best thing that ever happened to me,” he slurred.

“Jesus fucking Christ Wally,  _please_ ,” he sobbed.

It felt like an eternity, staring at the fluttering of his eyelashes, mumbling and pleading over and over again, whispering and moaning and desperate.

A ghost of a smile lingered on Wally’s lips, and Dick finally gave in and fell off the tightrope.


End file.
